posted on: Thursday April 18, 2013
Justin Fernandez ’15/Portfolio Staff
People like to talk about that moment in their life when they realized that they needed to step things up. That shining moment when they decided to turn their life around, kick that gambling addiction, write the next great American novel, or balance the state budget. For a lot of people, it happened after a near-death moment. I had the near-death moment, but not so much the revelation. Not at first. It should have hit me in the seconds after the car sideswiped my bike and sent me flying. But it didn’t. There was no moment of my life flashing before my eyes, no revelation that I’d led the most bread-and-butter existence in the history of mankind. In fact, my only thought was “what” and the only thing that hit me was the ground. It didn’t hit me when I was propped up against a wall and trying to figure out why my head was bleeding. That was another textbook time for me to have The Moment, but I was in shock at the time. (It’s a bit difficult to come to an existential conclusion when all you can do is stare at the mangled wreck of your bike and wonder how big of a dent it left in that car.) It didn’t come in the ambulance, either. Again, it was probably the shock. It was hard enough focusing on the paramedics, all of whom were wondering how I’d bashed my forehead open even though I was wearing a helmet. I had been wondering the same thing. I could only hope I wasn’t bleeding to death. Since they didn’t immediately drag me off to surgery when I reached the emergency room, I figured I wasn’t.